


Fragile

by ficwriter103



Series: Hot Sun, Bright Moon [2]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Angst, Child Death, Children, F/M, Marcy Carlsberg, Original Character - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-29
Updated: 2013-08-29
Packaged: 2017-12-25 00:30:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/946526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficwriter103/pseuds/ficwriter103
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Marcy have a child. But little Stacey isn’t like other children of Night Vale, she’s just so fragile. Steve can't help wondering why.  (A headcanon on why Steve questions everything in Night Vale)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fragile

Stacey Carlsberg arrived one sunny afternoon when no thunderstorms were around. She arrived, pink instead of purple with ten fingers and toes instead of twelve, and without any birth tattoos. The ceremonial midwife had never seen anything like it.

Stacey Carlsberg had no teeth and did not eat her own umbilical cord which was supposed to be the norm for babies that didn’t hatch from eggs.

Stacey Carlsberg could not howl, only cry. She couldn’t eat solid food, didn’t grow baby tentacles, didn’t have a third eye.

Steve didn’t know what to do with such a fragile little child. Neither did his wife, Marcy. Night Vale was a small town. No one had ever heard of such a thing. Steve braved the public library for child care books.

There were none that told of such an incident. According to the books, babies should have baby tentacles. They should have howled, bitten, kicked, scratched. They shouldn’t be sleeping all the time, unable to do anything but cry and poop and cry and sleep.

They didn’t even know what to feed her. The first week was spent trying to get Stacey to eat. She couldn’t chew but even the blended blood and meat shakes they fed her did not sit well with tiny Stacey.

Steve drove to another town. He drove to all the neighbouring towns, searching for answers.

He found a library.

He found a library where the librarian was a heart-faced young lady with no scales, claws or sharp teeth. He found a library that had so many books about child care that said Stacey was completely normal. He found a library that made no sense.

Steve checked out all the books for child care first. He bought a car seat, all the milk formula he thought he would need and drove back as fast as he could. 

Stacey took to the formula well like a dying cow took to the killing fields north of Night Vale. She survived and thrived on it. Steve felt safe enough to leave his precious little bundle to her mother for a little while as he drove back to the library. 

He learned a lot while he was there. 

He learned that in other places, there were no secret police. Steve learned that it was strange to have tentacles, that babies in other places didn’t have birth tattoos, that children didn’t lose two of their twelve fingers and toes as they grow up, that outside, fragile was normal.

Steve wondered why that was. He wondered why there was a difference between Night Vale and everywhere else. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. He ruminated on it during sleepless nights, protecting Stacey from the literal monsters under her crib. He thought about it when he drove Stacey to the pediatrician two towns over.

He brought up moving to Marcy. Marcy jumped at the idea. Anything for their precious little darling. They would do anything to keep her safe.

They packed up their bags and left the next morning. 

Only to discover that teachers had a different role in the real world. Marcy didn’t qualify. Lawyers did different things too, so Steve didn’t qualify. Steve got a job at the local supermarket but minimum wage was barely enough to support them all, especially when they had to take Stacey for her shots. Apparently, non-Night Vale babies needed something called immunization to make sure they didn’t get sick.

Eventually they figured out a plan. Steve would go back to Night Vale, continue his work there as a lawyer. Marcy would stay in the other town with Stacey. Steve drove up every weekend possible and every mandatory holiday. 

The town, Palm Bay, was bigger than Night Vale. It was perfect. Stacey grew up, never knowing the differences between her parents and the rest of the world. Marcy forced herself to get used to the strange, fragile life of Palm Bay and Steve tried his best to get used to the fact that out there, Night Vale was the odd one out.

Stacey was happy, relatively safe. 

Still, Steve couldn’t stop wondering. The ball had started rolling and he couldn't stop thinking. Why did Night Vale follow such different rules? Why didn’t people in Night Vale get sick and die like the others out there? 

Stacey grew up. She started asking questions that Steve and Marcy couldn’t answer. Why was Dad always in another town? Why didn’t they ever go back there? Why did mom and dad still get surprised by little things? Why did mom say strange things? Why did she have nightmares about monsters under her bed. 

Why didn’t mom and dad ever get older?

Steve’s worst fears came real one day when Marcy called.

“I can’t find Stacey. The car is gone.”

Followed by Cecil’s voice over the radio.

“Listeners, this morning there was a strange, strange anomaly at Night Vale High. Apparently, not all of us are invincible to bullets! This was discovered during daily shooting practice, run by Miss Leighton Prince, where a stray bullet hit a young teenage-”

What were the odds?

Steve staggered down to the morgue.

Stacey had been so fragile, always so fragile. 

He should have known it was too good to last. He should have known that even keeping Stacey away from Night Vale, she would never be safe.

They buried her in Palm Bay, a plot in the church graveyard. Her classmates in Palm Bay High school all showed up to the funeral, giving the Carlsbergs their condolences. 

But through the beautiful eulogy and the reception and everything, Steve couldn't stop thinking about how Night Vale could defy every single rule of the Outside. 

Marcy chose to stay in Palm Bay. She would rather live with the memories of her darling daughter, rather than live in the place her daughter died.

Steve stayed, asking why, always asking why.


End file.
